


London calling to the imitation zone...

by KittyAug, KittyAugust (KittyAug)



Series: Of Hunters and Hellblazers [2]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Interlude, M/M, Phone messages, Post-Demon Dean, Post-Gary Angst, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, voice mail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAugust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Constantine talks to a lot of demons. He just doesn't usually leave them drunken voice mail messages after killing his childhood friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	London calling to the imitation zone...

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _London Calling_ by The Clash.
> 
> The last section occurs a month or two before [Of Hunters and Hellblazers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2774576).
> 
> Also: eternal thanks to my lovely beta [Littletownflirt](http://littletownflirt.tumblr.com/).

Dean has been human again for all of 15 hours when his private cell rings. He’s hardly even blinked his eyes back from black and people already want shit from him.

He thinks about ignoring it but that seems too demonic. So he sits up to grab the phone and looks at the caller id. ‘Hellbastard’ flashes back at him. _Fuck that. Where were you three months ago, John?_ Dean throws the phone and hears it hit the wall with a crack. He regrets it immediately but can’t be bothered doing anything about it.

He falls back on the bed behind him and tries not to think. Tries not to think about everything he’d been doing while his soul was smoke. Tries not to think about Cas leaving… again. With the ‘female’ in the car. Whatever the fuck that meant.

He tries not to wonder why the Hellblazer picked this moment to get in touch. Did he know? He talks to Crowley, doesn’t he? Oh fuck… would Crowley have said anything about… No. Probably not. Probably wouldn’t even know enough to bother. Oh god had he said anything to _Sam_. Fuck. Damn it. He’s _not_ thinking about this shit. He needs to get out of here. Out of the Bunker. Out of his own head.

He forces himself up and goes to the door.

“Sammy,” he shouts. “You freaking win. We’re going fishing.”

0oOo0

It’s over a week later when Dean finally sucks it up and checks the messages.

He’s leaning up against the Impala outside their crappy seaside motel. Doesn’t want to wake Sammy. Still isn’t sleeping. Not really. It’s the dreams. And the memories. And something else too. Something that feels like hot sugar in his veins. Something he wants to ignore.

There are a lot of messages considering how few people have this number. But they trail off after the first month of his demonic vacation. Mostly from Sam hoping he’ll pick up with each one getting progressively more desperate than the last. He skips most of those. One from Jody, shit they need to call her. Two from Chris Argent up in Cali about something Dean’s never heard of. Whatever. Sounds like he handled it in the end.

And four from John Constantine.

\---

**Message received on August 19, 4:12am.**

“Hey mate. It’s Johnny C. I got a problem in th’ States that I’m not really sure I'll be… around for it right now. It’s about Jay Winters. Look, is a bloody long story, right. Complicated. More complicated than usual. Just…” he sighs. “Look, I’m in Ravenscar... Don’t start! It’s… part of even more complicated than th’ last thing, yeah? So just give us a ring here a’right? Ta.”

\---

**Message received on September 2, 11:38pm.**

“Bloody hell Winchester, learn to answer your bleeding phone. If you changed the number without telling me you’re going to owe me a bunny, yeah? Look I sorted the complicated from the other month. Much as I could any road. Turns out I might be more’n a cheap flashy little crook when I have ta’…” There’s laughing in the background and a gruff male voice asking something Dean can’t make out. “Yeah, I’m commin’” Constantine mutters then, “Look just gimme a ring, luv. There’s something up and you lads might want in on it. Don’t make me come sodding looking for you, yeah?”

\---

**Message received on September 13, 6:04am.**

“It’s John. I know wha… I heard some stuff. And, well there’s worse things but not many, yeah? I just… look it’d be good to know one way or t’other… or… oh fuck it…” there’s a crack and the call disconnects.

\---

The final message starts with John laughing. That same self-deprecating one that comes before a hyperbolic rant and some truly monumental binge drinking. Although from how slurred his speech is this one was actually _during_ the binge. Dean should be glad he didn’t pick up but instead he feels inexplicably guilty. Nothing new there then. As far as Dean can tell guilt is pretty much what not begin a demon means.

**Message received on October 4, 01:35pm.**

“Dunno what I sodding expected…” John’s voice drawls down the line. “Don’t know if you heard ‘bout that hunger demon in n’york? Don’t know if you sodding care these days but… well I sorted it. Like I always do, right mate? I did what it took. Paid the price an’ all that bollocks… I don’t know why I’m even… Oh _sod_ it. You’re never going to hear this anyway. Last known location had a triple six area code, right mate? Fuck.” There are a few heart beats of silence. Then, “Gaz was… he was a good kid once. He wasn’t a v’ry good _bloke_ … never got the way of it but... he just wanted so bloody much. And so bloody _hard_. But, he was a good kid. Once. We was mates, then. You know? First bloke I ever kissed. Not sure I told you that one. Not sure I told anyone, a’ctully…” Dean can hear him take a drink before he continues. And Dean just knows it was that self-pitying out-of-the-bottle kind of drinking. Knows it too well himself. “We’re fucking poison, Winchester. Men like us. We either drown our own damned arses in it (well fucking done by the way) or we feed it to every last twit we come into contact with…. An… and… they just bleeding drink it down, don’t they… they just… ‘trust me’. Ha. ‘ _Trust_ me!’ Every _sodding_ time. And some days they trust you enough that you almost fucking trust yourself. And that’s the worst. Innit? That’s always the worst. Because that’s when it’s gonna all fall apart ‘round yer ears… and…” A muffled curse, a loud thudding crash. “Fuck. You’re lucky you don’t see ‘em W‘chester. Some ghosts you can’t salt and burn – they’re in you… in your sodding soul… and they just don’t _shut up_.” He laughs again, bitter and broken, there's a sharp click, something like the start of static and then the message just ends.

Dean doesn’t know if the Hellblazer hung up or crashed out or… what. But that’s it. No more message. No more half-sobbed drunken words to cut himself on. No more clues.

Dean looks at the phone for a while. He's not sure how long. That didn’t sound good. But this is the frigging _Hellblazer_. He does this shit all the time. And it was a _week_ ago. He’s probably back in the UK by now. He’s another one that doesn’t stick around that long. Get the job done and gone. In a flash of tan trench coat. Dean almost laughs at himself over that particular thought. But Sammy’s not around and every laugh has been faked since he got back. So why bother.

There’s no point in calling now, right? Chas’ll deal with it. Probably already has dealt with it. And Dean has enough of his own freaking problems right now. No point in inviting the Hellblazer’s mess along for the ride.

0oOo0

A full four weeks after he left that last message John gets a text. He was so drunk at the time that he doesn’t even remember what he said – only knows he bloody tried because of the call history. Four weeks since he sacrificed his first friend. Finished the half-arsed job that God did on the bloke’s life with a shamanic knife and a bit of well-placed treachery. The John Constantine special.

He turns on the phone just outside the Mexico City airport. While he fumbles to light a fag with the other hand.

**New Message**

Today at 9:07 pm

 **Dean Winchester:** _‘FYI I’m alive. Again. Long story.’_

John stares at the little screen for a few moments. Huh. Fancy that. Not a demon. Well _probably_ not a demon. Maybe trying to play him. But if it was it was doing a very good job of being just as flippant and stand-offish as Winchester actually would be. Hmmm.

Well that would have to wait. Right now Annie needs him. He can deal with Dean Winchester later.

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of made up the timeline. I knew that Rage of Caliban happened on Halloween so I worked back from there on tight timelines but stretched out the time between the first four episodes a lot more. I just really like the idea of Sam curing Dean at the exact same time that John is sacrificing Lester. Go figure…
> 
> “A cheap flashy little crook” is a direct quote from John’s dad, Thomas Constantine, describing John in Hellblazer #1
> 
> In HB “Trust me” is often what John says before betraying or generally destroying someone who trusts him.
> 
> Yes, Chris Argent is a reference to Teen Wolf. Not sure if I'll run with that or not yet. But it's there.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I has a tumblr - <http://kittyaugust.tumblr.com/>
> 
> Any and all comments make for a very happy Kitty!


End file.
